


the end (although it was really over before it even began)

by huntuer (tuffbeifong)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 21:21:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4321182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuffbeifong/pseuds/huntuer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>who likes crying</p>
            </blockquote>





	the end (although it was really over before it even began)

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: major character death, suicide mention

This was never the way Jo imagined it would end. She’d imagined a roaring finale, for better or for worse: charging into the fight, gun in hand. Not this. 

Instead of falling a hero, the months passed as she watched her friends lose faith in the cause, faith in anything. She watching them wither until they no longer reflected what they fought for. She watched them long after they’d stopped being her friends. After they’d stopped truly being human. 

All except Anna. It was cruel, that the one human who valued that status above all others: the one who’d fought and fallen for it, the one who longed to feel more than anything, was the one that didn’t stop feeling. The others went numb. They lost touch with reality and with pain, as a matter of necessity. 

Not Anna. Jo would wake up in the middle of the night, feeling the girl next to her wracking with sobs. And she would lay there, knowing there was nothing she could do. What could possibly comfort this being, this person, through such a multitude of pain? Jo would caress her back, her shoulders. Pull her close and hold her. Anna would lean into her, but the sobs would continue, and Jo knew that the pain she felt was unimaginable. To feel the departure of her family, and watch her dearest brother fall under crumbling wings as her eldest siblings waged a war of destruction and disease across everything she’d ever dreamed of being a part of. Everything she’d fought so hard to save. 

But the real pain was in the slowness of their death. And they were dying; they had no mortal wounds, but there was no hope left. The epidemic raged on, consuming more and more of the world. Each and every day there were fewer humans, fewer strongholds. One by one, the soldiers of Camp Chitaqua realized that theirs was a losing battle. 

It was a difficult way to come to terms with mortality. To realize that you were dying, and that it didn’t matter because there was nothing left to live for: more than a few of their friends had checked out early. That was what Dean called it in the beginning: he was less euphemistic now. Now, he was nothing but cold rage and razor sharp hatred. 

But now it was the end. She’d watched the world stripped of all its goodness and its humanity, until there was nothing left but the occasional spark, waiting to be snuffed out. And as she knelt here on the bloody cement, a fallen angel cradled in her arms, she leaned back, suddenly glad. 

Glad that the body in her arms was empty. Glad that instead of the pain that had become endless, Anna felt nothing. Jo felt a peal of laughter crack out between her sobs, as she reveled a moment in the simple pleasure that the woman in her arms, the woman that she loved, was not shaking with tears and pain. Anna was at peace, and for a heartbeat, Jo felt the warmth of happiness at the thought. 

And then the heartbeat was over, and it wasn’t followed by any more. 


End file.
